Demon
by TheDarkestShinobi
Summary: Jim is sure Moriarty is a demon, he's in Jim's head, he's controlling Jim's body. This changes when he meets Sherlock, who makes Moriarty retreat to think and John, who gets Moriarty to vanish. "You're so good you make me good." Jim says to John and its true, it is so true that Moriarty wants John too. Moriarty wants to take John apart piece by piece. Johniarty Multiple Personality
1. 1 Carl Powers

**TheDarkestShinobi:** This is a Johniarty! Jim and Moriarty are a split personality that develops under Carl. Enjoy! Review! This chapter is Jim from age 10-11 to early 20's. He meets John next chapter

**Start**

"Please join me in congratulating Carl Powers," the speaker booms and Jim looks down, as if just mentioning the name could summon the boy to the classroom. He has miraculously been absent from class so far, and Jim is hoping it would stay that way. "…in a win that places him in our school's record books." Jim can hear the other children in the class murmuring about how amazing Carl was. He was so strong. He was almost as tall as the teachers. Jim lets his hands fiddle with his pencil. Carl was great to so many, but not to _poor little Jim_. He was positively evil to Jim.

"In just two months' time," the announcement continues, and even the teacher looks annoyed at having been interrupted for too long. "Carl will be traveling for our school…" Jim perks up at that. How long would he be gone?

"So once again, please join me in congratulating Carl Powers!" She concludes and the classroom around him erupts into laughter, cheers and applause. Jim just twirls his pencil around his fingers and looks at the teacher. Mr. Brown, the new teacher, is politely clapping as he leans on the desk. One girl, she is infatuated with the swimmer, jumps to her feet and the others follow her. The teacher shakes his head and Jim tries to drown out the sound and sinks further into his seat. The noise loudens and Jim looks up to see Carl in the front of the room. Jim wishes he had stayed home.

…

"Yo, Irishman, why didn't you clap?" Jim feels the others hands on his back and lifts his arms to prevent his face from contact with the locker. His arms sting and he is trying to hold back the tears as he feels the taller boy turn him around.

"Are you not happy for me?" Carl's hand fists in his shirt and pulls him forward before slamming him back against the lockers. Jim lets the tears fall and yells out, but Carl's other hand covers his mouth. "So smart, but you haven't learned that lesson yet have you?" Jim feels his feet leave the ground and wonders if there is anyplace he could kick to cause the most damage. Jim feels himself drop as he hears footsteps around the corner.

"Carl? James?" Their teacher asks as he sees them. Carl smiles widely and Jim can't bring his face to move or his hands to his tears. "Everything okay?" Carl nods and wraps an arm around Jim's shoulders.

"Yeah, he wanted to congratulate me in person!" Jim nods as soon as he feels the hand tighten but their teacher doesn't look convinced.

"Jim, I need to talk to you, so come on." Jim is thankful for the small miracles and sprints from Carl's side to Mr. Brown's side. Small victories. Neither of them speak until they are in Mr. Browns classroom and he lifts Jim to make him sit on his table.

"Has Carl been bullying you?" Jim looks away. Carl has been bullying him for years; it has only grown worse since the year started. "Well, I know the truth, whether or not you answer." Jim wonders what will happen now. He looks away

"Can I go home now?" Mr. Brown nods with a frown.

"Come to me if you need anything, don't let the bully's win. They don't deserve it."

Jim wants to ask what they do deserve, but just hops off the desk and hurries home.

…

The next time Mr. Brown sees the two together he steps between them and Carl scoffs before walking away. Jim wraps his arms around Mr. Brown's leg and Mr. Brown knows that this has already gone too far. Jim follows Mr. Brown in secret and sits on the floor outside the principal's office and listens to the other two talk.

"Carl Powers is bullying my student."

"Now, I doubt that." Carl hears the principal say. "Carl is such a nice boy. Did you know he won the swimming-"

"I know." He interrupts. Jim can't help the small smile that comes to his face.

"So if there is bullying, what do you suggest we do?"

"Suspend him." The answer is quick and Jim shifts.

"That will disqualify him from the swimming championships." She doesn't like that idea very much.

"I know, and I know you don't think that's fair, but he is terrorizing another student. It's physical bulling!"

"Terrorizing!" The principal laughs and Jim's smile fades, he feels angry. He stands. This isn't a joke! "It's just boys being boys." She defends.

"That's the worst excuse I have ever heard." Jim hears shuffling and knows Mr. Brown is preparing to leave the office. He runs as fast as he can.

The next time he is at the library, he exchanges his fairy tale book with one about human biology, the librarian thinks it may too much for him, but he doesn't care. He also doesn't know why he wants that one or why he spends all night reading it.

...

"You know Mr. Brown isn't going to be here to save you every time." Carl started and Jim clutched his biology book closer to his chest.

"I want you to stop hurting me." He says and almost regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. Carl knocks the book out of his hands and Jim feels Carl's knee impact his chest and coughs out a few times. He stares at the book before looking up at Carl. Carl tilts his head at the change in Jim's eyes.

"You won't stop." Carl smiles and Jim sees the biology book laid out across Carl's body. He can see the organs and ribs, the muscles and arteries. He remembers their necessity and wonders where he should hit to cause the most damage. "Not until you're dead." He speaks again and Carl takes two steps back.

"Jim!" Mr. Brown calls out and Jim picks up his biology book and treasures the look of fear on Carl's face. He turns away and walks towards Mr. Brown with a small smile on his face. As Mr. Brown frets over him, Jim can feel himself returning to normal.

"I'm fine, Mr. Brown, really, you came before he could do much." Jim coughs again and Mr. Brown narrows his eyes.

"I don't care what she says; I'm going to suspend that boy."

"It's okay," Jim says softly, not entirely sure why. Then his voice lowers as he stops kicking his legs. "I can take care of myself." Mr. Brown clearly doesn't believe him

"Okay, and what are you going to do next time?"

_I'll go for the trachea. _Jim opens his mouth but doesn't reply, his answer shocking him. Mr. Brown sighs and Jim hops off the desk to head home.

…

"Who are you?" Jim turns a page in his book as he talks out loud

"What do you mean?" he answers himself, "I'm you, I'm Jim."

"No." Jim insists. "I'm Jim, you're different." Jim points to the knight in the picture.

"I'm your armor but I'm still you." Jim's hand extends to cover the entire picture of the knight and the horse. "If I can't share your name then you can call me Moriarty." Jim smiles as he traces the knight's outline.

"So Moriarty," Jim begins, "you're here to protect me, does that mean you'll protect me against Carl too?"

…

Moriarty says he knows what bullies deserve. Jim listens.

Carl has eczema. Moriarty shows Jim the skin on his jacket and Carl's shoelaces.

That makes his skin extra porous to things like poison.

It makes everything easier.

…

Jim smiles as the principal makes the announcement that class would be interrupted to watch Carl's swim meet. Mr. Brown had done what he could, but it was Moriarty that protected Jim. Jim watches as the gun goes off and Carl starts swimming. Moriarty smirks when Carl seems to stop moving and have a fit. The feed cuts off and the next announcement is much more solemn, but Jim and Moriarty are smiling as they know he's gone.

Jim doesn't want to sign the card that Mr. Brown passes around the next day, but Moriarty does, so Jim watches the loopy cursive signing his last name before he passes it off. By the end of it, the school seems to be in mourning but Jim couldn't wait to celebrate.

…

"The armor comes off after the dragon is slayed." Jim says, and he's not sure what he wants Moriarty to do.

"You're not done yet." Moriarty responds and Jim begins to brush his teeth.

_What's next?_

_**Other people have bullies too; you can help them get rid of theirs.**_

Jim smiles and the suds fall from his lips to the sink.

…

The first boys Jim helps start following him around. He doesn't mind, Moriarty stresses the importance of numbers. A few years after, they grow into puberty very well and though Moriarty is still lanky and unassuming, his minions are anything but.

"You really should leave her alone." Jim crosses his arms and Moriarty takes in everything. The tilt of his fingers indicate they were all broken; parental abuse. Yellow nails indicate cigarettes. The fur on his pants tell Moriarty he has multiple pets.

"What's it to you, short stack!" The short, pale blonde woman is crying, and Jim tilts his head as he uses Moriarty's words and deductions to reduce the man to tears. When, finally, the man decides to attack the 16 year old. Jim ducks and his friends take care of the man.

He didn't know this woman would be the future love interest to one Irene Adler, but his network starts here.

"Boss." Jim looks over his shoulder to see the man on the floor, bleeding and crying. "should we go?"

"You have a nice day," Jim bids the woman farewell as he disappears into the shadows with them.

"We should get more people involved." Jim says to his reflection. He nods and lifts his hand to his chin.

"I couldn't agree more, Jim."

…

Moriarty had always been a voice inside his head. Jim always listened but Jim had a choice, at least he thought. He built his network as he built his knowledge, and now he had hundreds of people ready to help him, most of them had never seen his face. He went by Moriarty more than Jim.

…

Moriarty is a demon. Jim is sure of it. He's in control today, and he doesn't know what he should do. He can hear Moriarty's buzz in the back of his head and goes to the bathroom to wash his face. He wets his face and towels off, realizing he's gotten water on his shirt and jeans. He laughs softly and wants to go out and meet people. He looks up and sees his reflection in the mirror.

Jim looks into his own eyes in the mirror and blinks. Then he sees the demon, wearing his skin like a costume, but it's got horns and bony wings, claws and no eyeballs. The demon he called Moriarty as a child. It turns its head and Jim pulls back gasping. He hits the wall behind him and gasps, but he's still in control. He's still got his body.

Now, more than ever, he wants to go out and be normal, so he does. He goes shopping for clothes for him, not Westwood, and goes out to party.

He doesn't have much fun; still, he can hear the music over Moriarty's buzzing in his head. Small victories.

…

At some point it had changed.

Moriarty and Jim fought for dominance. Jim couldn't tell if he'd wake up as himself or a voice in his head. They were at war. Moriarty was turning Jim's network to crime, and they followed him like dogs. Jim watched and watched until he had no choice but to join. There is no redemption for him, not ever. One thing he could do is postpone the inevitable by staying away from the physicality of it. He knew the second he got his hands dirty he'd never be able to stop.

Moriarty watched Jim become another pet, another minion, just another part of the network.

**TDS: **Please review!


	2. 2 Dr Watson

**TheDarkestShinobi: **So I may have to put A Good Old Fashioned Story on a temporary break, I somehow lost all of my notes for it and its future plans. So I have to take a step back and plot my trajectory. Enjoy!

**Start**

The first time Moriarty hears of Sherlock Holmes' work he silences and retreats into Jim's head. Jim doesn't know what to do with all the free time, but he keeps to his schedule and can't help but wonder about Sherlock Holmes. He digs and digs for information on this man who could make Moriarty shut up. What he finds isn't disappointing. Sherlock's a proper genius. Jim wonders if Sherlock is a weapon he can use, an ally he could make.

Truth is he is not the hero Jim was hoping for or an ally against himself. Sherlock is a rival to Moriarty in brainpower and that is why the other retreated. When Moriarty comes back with such staggering force that Jim falls down, Jim abandons hope for reclaiming his body.

"I'm not done with you." He says to himself as he changes out of jeans into a suit. "I've just," he looks into the mirror to check his present-ability, "found someone more interesting to play with." As he leaves his room he makes sure the network is running smoothly before listening in on a debate Moriarty knows his latest crime will have swayed and pulling up a CTV of Sherlock Holmes.

If Sherlock hadn't been interesting on his own, his brother, Mycroft, would have been enough incentive to play with and test the detective. As it is, Moriarty feels as if he had hit the jackpot. Jim watches as Moriarty follows the man. Jim listens as Moriarty praises the other. He finds amusement in the way Moriarty answers the questions Sherlock directs at his skull. Moriarty keeps track of all of Sherlock's cases but decides he wants more of a challenge for him. He would have to create a case for the other, get him to come out and play. Introducing Jefferson Hope into the equation taught them about Sherlock and introduced his sidekick. They were useful; especially ex-soldiers. He would know; he had one.

He ignored John, as anyone would, because he's a fiercely loyal soldier whose loyalty lies with queen and country, morally sound, good with a gun, but he's not extraordinary. Jim Moriarty was looking for extraordinary and he found it in Sherlock Holmes. John blogged about the cabbie, how cute, a pet, but it didn't tell Moriarty more about Sherlock. He'd need more information.

He brings in the Chinese and watches everything. He watches Sherlock try to find the book and fretting with the police. He is on the side of the angels and Moriarty was trying to bring out the viciousness in him. He saw it with Hope and Moriarty wanted to see it again. He watches Sherlock struggle with an assassin and the hair pin and how his pet seemed to be a weak spot. Interesting. The Chinese kidnapped the pet and his girlfriend and mistook him for Sherlock. How could there even be confusion? He has to have Moran get rid of them once Sherlock succeeds and it puts a bit of a damper on his reach in China but it is well worth it. He learns that Sherlock likes to dance, and that Moriarty would have to find the perfect song.

The blog was useful for one thing, and that was the description of the cell phone the woman had planted on the killer. He did not get to see it so he took the pet's word on it. He called his soldier and set up some clues. Sherlock didn't know about pop culture, or the solar system which would be useful. He could also play with brother dearest who had been annoying of late. It would have to be military codes.

It is perfect.

Dangerous games are the best kind.

…

For all of Moriarty's interest in Sherlock, they decided that Jim would be the one to meet the duo; after all, the best knowledge came firsthand and Moriarty knows he would give himself away. He started a few weeks ago, in IT with Ms. Molly Hooper. She was a nice shy girl and Jim felt bad for leading her on but it was all part of the plan. Everything starts today, the day Moriarty meets Sherlock and Sherlock meets Jim.

"What do I wear?" Jim asks cautiously as he stands by his bed, not wanting to anger the other and lose his temporary freedom.

"Whatever you want." Moriarty answers back as he grabs neon underwear and tan jeans. Jim grabs a white shirt and Moriarty puts on the watch.

"I look like Jim," he smiles quickly and nervously before frowning.

"We are Jim."

There is an explosion. There are five pips. There are shoes in Sherlock's flat building.

"…Office romance." Jim watches Sherlock look over his shoulder and smiles slightly.

"Gay." Sherlock announces and Jim is in awe. He's so smart. Maybe, he could beat Moriarty. Not likely, he tells himself. Molly's smile fades and Jim catches John looking him up and down. Jim is not sure why, but watching John taking him in proved pleasurable and the extra glance his underwear got made him want to blush. Moriarty had no thoughts on him and Jim realized he was being quiet again. Jim stared at Sherlock, the awe from John never fading off of his face. John; standing in perfect parade rest behind him. John, looking so nice with his combed hair and red shirt. Sherlock looks up out of the scope.

"Nothing," he looks over to him. "Um, Hey." Sherlock smiles politely but even Jim can tell it is false. He lets his hands play with each other before resting them on the table and knocking something down. Moriarty seizes the opportunity to slide his number into what he knocked down before replacing it. Moriarty revels in the feel of his rival's eyes on him. Sherlock couldn't see through Jim but Moriarty feels the charge coming from a challenge.

"Well, I better be off," John's arms are crossed now and Jim scratches his arm. Molly looks to him and nods. "I'll see you…" he starts talking to Molly as he turns to watch Sherlock. John is watching the genius too.

"Yeah."

"It was nice to meet you." He says to Sherlock as he rubs his hand along Molly's back. John is looking between the two of them and bids farewell for Sherlock.

Jim and Moriarty look to John in that instant realizing something they both overlooked, John is important. Moriarty knows John is the way to Sherlock, and kidnapping him needs to happen at some point. Jim realizes something else, John and Sherlock make the other quiet and this needs to be explored. For the first time in a while Jim and Moriarty could agree; they needed John.

He leaves. Jim feels the buzz in his head get stronger with every step away from them, but by the time he walks out of the building the buzz fades to a low hum as Moriarty disappears for a few hours, likely to plan the dramatic finally. Jim follows their progress and doesn't know who he wants to watch more; the unassuming pet, who may have more of a bite than bark or the consulting detective, who has been interesting from the very start.

He should have known that Sherlock wouldn't just pick anyone for a pet.

It doesn't take him long to figure out the shoes belong to Carl Powers. The name echoes in Jim's head again and takes him back to oh so many years ago. It takes him back to Mr. Brown and meeting Moriarty. Jim remembers the feeling of bullies, wanting to make sure they never hurt again. He remembers what they disserve. More than that, he remembered the moment he realized he was a bully. Moriarty is too good, too untouchable.

"Seb," Jim shifted the phone against his ear. "I'm going to need you to keep an eye on dear old Dr. Watson."

**TDS: **Reviews are love!


	3. 3 The First Abduction

**TheDarkestShinobi: **Enjoy! Please review!

John knows something is wrong after the man in the black jacket crosses the corner. He's being tailed. John lets out a breath as he fists his hands in his pockets. He knows he can take his tail, but if the odds are stacked against him and his tail has friends then he's SOL. John tries to grab his phone, but he doesn't know how to text with it in his pocket.

There's a deli on the next corner with a camera, he can pop in there and lose the tail. Even if that didn't work, there would at least be some video of the man that hopefully the police and Sherlock would be able to use to find him. He watches two other men step out of a car ahead of him and takes them in. Their coats are too warm for the weather; even John has forgone his usual jumper today. They stand tall and have large glasses covering their face. He stops walking as he glares at the two men walking towards him. The corner of his mouth lifts as he breathes out through his nose.

He listens as the footsteps get closer to him. He peeks into the window next to him to see the man is pulling something out of his coat and will be close enough to hit in 3…2…1… John spins as he punches the man. The other man drops the syringe as his hands come up to cover his nose; broken for sure. John turns back to the other two with arms raised but the first of the two swats them to the side with the momentum from John's spin as the other shoves his head down to bend him in half. John feels a little prick in the back of his neck and not much afterwards.

John's head is pounding and he lifts his hands to his head, or he would've had they not been bound together behind his back. He opens his eyes to see Jim in front of him. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion as his fingers start to untie the knot between his hands. He looks the man over and yes, that's Molly's boyfriend sitting in front of him. John lets out a breath as he looks around, not catching up to the situation.

"Jim?"

"You remember me, Johnny boy?" Yes, but just a bit differently than this. John is silent. Moriarty can read the story and thoughts on his face. He was full of expressions. "Jim Moriarty," Moriarty introduces as he leans back in his chair with disapproval. John's eyes widen as he tries harder to untie the knot, no telling what Moriarty will do to him. Molly was dating the criminal mastermind, he couldn't quite believe it.

"Moriarty?" Moriarty asks aloud, "Moriarty from the games? From the cabbie?" John doesn't answer him; Moriarty's look shifts to approval as he smiles a bit. "Nice work on that by the way." John looks away at the implication. "Although I wouldn't be too terribly hurt if you didn't know me, after all, I was only interested in Sherlock myself." John is almost done with the rope.

"Who still hasn't noticed you're gone." Moriarty frowns suddenly, "No. I don't see it, Dr. Watson."

"See what?" John asks as he tugs the last bit out of the knot. Just as he goes to move them away from each other he feels another hand descend on his. John closes his eyes with a small sigh and Moriarty's light up as his frown disappears.

"Ah! Interesting." John doesn't do anything as the man behind him reties the rope, extra tight, around his wrists. John can tell he's going to lose circulation in-there's the tingling feeling. Jim watches the look on John's face turn into a glare and wonders the point of it. John has no hope of escaping Moriarty at this point. Neither of them did. Moriarty continues. "That is a record for untying Moran's knots. Just for doing it, actually. You also broke somebody's nose a few hours ago."

So he's been gone a few hours and Sherlock hasn't noticed he's gone.

"But I suppose you've had practice in Kandahar." John stiffens slightly at the name and Moriarty stands. "Yes, I know _all_ about it." He seems to sing the last part and John maintains the glare as he tries to wiggle his fingers for some circulation. Moriarty turns to walk out of a door behind him and Moran tugs on his own knot. John can feel the pain of the relief as he catches the sight of Moran. A tall, muscular, if not bulky, man covered in black from head to toe. John can't make out any features and watches the door shut and leave him in complete darkness.

John had been in a situation like this before, and Moriarty just told him he knew about all of that. He lets out a sigh as he tries to figure out what Moriarty knew about him. The only safe answer is to assume he knows everything but not to give anything away. He had been to a lot of places oversees, but Kandahar is where everything happened. He shakes his head. The other can't know everything, some things weren't documented. Him being a POW wasn't, those 16 days of hell exist only in his mind and are only evidenced on his body.

If Moriarty knew about Kandahar then there were no secrets. John felt a chill crawl down his spine, was Moriarty going to cause London to be his new nightmare? John shifts, pulling on his ropes. Even if the extent of his stay was unknown, all they had to do was lift his shirt and they'd see all the scars. Someone like him may even be able to tell what made which scars, which ones bled out and which were held shut and burned closed. John shook his head as soon as he felt his leg throb. Focus.

What does Moriarty know? Everything.

What can he give away? Nothing. He closes his eyes.

Will Moriarty hurt him? Maybe. It's different than last time. Last time he was the target, the others wanted revenge and thought the Captain was the person to start with. He was the endgame of that plan. This time he is the bait and Sherlock is endgame. This was meant to scare him and get him into thinking about his other time, maybe even trigger some of his PTSD. It wouldn't work. They wouldn't hurt him too much, if at all. Sherlock. This time everything revolved around Sherlock.

If it had been a few hours, he couldn't could on Sherlock knowing he was missing yet. Any text he sent to check up on him could be answered by Moriarty for the time being; therefore it could be a whole day before Sherlock noticed. John hopes Sherlock doesn't play into Moriarty's hand and get caught. If Moriarty is going to hurt either of them it would need to be John. Sherlock wouldn't be able to survive something like that. John knows what it does to people with ordinary minds, but it would be different for Sherlock. He'd be tied up and know what was going to happen as the others figured it out, he would be able to remember everything that happened. His mind palace would be shattered. John couldn't let that happen.

John shakes his head as he leans forward. His arms strain as he puts all his weight on his toes but it's no use, the chair is too study to break by falling on it. He sets it back down as he tugs on the knot. It would take way too long to untie. John lets out a breath before looking towards the door. The man in all black, Moran, is back and this time he's got a vest of explosives with him. It's small enough to be hidden with a jacket.

"I'm not bombing anyplace." John growls out and hears a high pitched laughter in response.

"Oh, John, that's not really your choice, is it?" John shakes his head, the sand of Kandahar flashes in his mind.

"I will not." He struggles even though he knows it is futile.

"I'll kill Sherlock if you don't." John lets out a snort and shakes his head.

"You like him too much." He tugs again, his shoulder protesting. Jim feels a surge of hope. Moriarty tilts his head in what appears to be interest.

"Not just kill, torture, worse than what you have had to go through." John is sure Moriarty has no idea what he had to go through. Even then, John swallows, he can't. Not even for Sherlock. His life would be one thing, but the victims of the bomb are another and not his to give. Moriarty nods as if he just confirmed something. He motions to John with his hand and Moran gets closer.

"No." John says firmly and repeats himself as Moran starts to place it on his lap. John sees the needle as soon as Moran takes it out, and he has no idea what's in it, but he lets out a string of curses until it renders him unconscious.

It's hot, so hot; too hot for Europe. John's breathing quickens. He can almost hear the voices taunting him. He doesn't understand the words but he knows their meaning. No. When John wakes up he jerks awake, back arching and hand coming up to grab something that's not there.

"Oh dear, it looks like we've traumatized him." John blinks twice before he can really see, and he locks eyes with the man with a gun trained on his head. He knows the man must be a good shot because he is wearing the vest from before.

"No, we didn't have to." John shifts his gaze to spot Moran a few feet away. He knows what Moran doesn't say: someone else did. He is already defective. "Now, Dr. Watson, I'm going to explain the situation and then you are going to do exactly as you are told." John doesn't shift.

"I really, sincerely, doubt that."

_Trust issues_

…

"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" John blinks rapidly three times as soon as Sherlock turns around to see him. He is ridiculously hot in this parka and under that gaze.

"John," He blinks slowly this time, three times. Sherlock is still holding out the drive "What the hell." Three fast blinks, but Sherlock doesn't show relief. John hears Moriarty laugh. Moriarty must've read what Sherlock couldn't. No matter.

"Bet you never saw this coming." He repeats and Sherlock walks towards him. John repeats his series of blinks; now that Sherlock is focused on him he should see it. He should. He doesn't.

"Oh Johnny, he sees but does not observe," John knows the wording is on purpose.

_I think he wants to be distracted._

John pulls open the parka at Moriarty's request and curses the two of them and their boredom. He wonders why he has to be the one in between them.

"What would you like me to make him say next?" John asks Sherlock who seems relieved at it and searches around for him. And John hates the next exchange with every part of him, because it was, word for word, what Jim told him it would be.

"I've given you a glimpse…" And that's what it was, a glimpse. "No one ever gets to me, and no one ever will." And still Sherlock responds with the exact words Jim told him before. "…even 30 million quid…" John shakes his head because he still can't believe it. As Moriarty continues, John has to stop himself from yelling fuck it and just tackling the mad wanker.

Finally, Sherlock asks if he's alright, after Moriarty and he have talked. Moriarty told John to wait for his okay, and then he would say he's alright now. Thing is, John hated this script in Moriarty's head and the fact that the universe seems content to follow it. He would not. He looks Sherlock in the eye and nods. Despite his little change, the rest of the script goes as planned. When Moriarty tosses the plans, John disrupts his plans again; charging towards the madman and hoping someone will shoot him and end this now.

Moriarty seems pleased; he yells 'good, very good' and John wonders if this is still part of Moriarty's plan. But then, it doesn't matter too much, as long as Sherlock gets out of here safely.

When the laser sight is on Sherlock's head and Moriarty twists slightly in his hold to look at him, John realizes there is no hope. This is all according to plan. Except it's not, not for Moriarty because each act from John causes Jim to stir and question. Jim is pushing back and Moriarty isn't equipped to deal with this all at once. Tactical retreat, then. John lets go and Jim quiets a bit. Moriarty continues with his plan and John feels like screaming. Nothing he did could change anything.

When Sherlock falls to a knee John feels the first rush of panic. He yells his name a few times to try and get Sherlock to say something hoping his voice will break the memory.

_Captain!_

_I found him!_

_Help me untie his legs!_

As soon as the vest comes off breathing becomes the task. He's too cold. He yells Sherlock again but Sherlock moves past him without a sound. When they untied John in Kandahar he fell to his knees, unable to support his weight. He almost falls on them here before remembering he hasn't been suspended in air and he can catch himself. Still cold.

"Oh, Christ."

It worked.

John tries to talk about people talking, anything to get his mind off of this. When he rises he spots the laser sights again and shakes his head. When Sherlock asks him, with a look, if he's okay with Sherlock's plan he nods. Moriarty needs to be taken down, no matter the cost. John had been prepared to lay down his life before and this is no different. Instead, when the phone rings and Moriarty walks out, John is left sitting in the back of an ambulance with an orange blanket wondering how he has cheated death again.

He also spends the time telling himself that the weather is not too cold right now, the air is not too clean and there is no need to sleep with his gun under his pillow.

**TDS: **What do you think?


	4. Aftershocks

**TheDarkestShinobi:** Sorry, sorry, it been way too long, I know! Here's chapter four. Reviews are love!

Now, the italicized bits are some that the faint of heart should skip. It's torture from John's time at war.

**Start**

"_A doctor at war?" The other comments in English as he uses John's uniform to clean a blade. It's still rusty, still likely to infect and kill him that way. John watches and swallows. Where would they cut him-scar him? Or rather, where first? He remembers the field that they took him from, and the shell that went off in the area. His mates may have assumed he was blown to bits. They would never find him. They would never look. "You are a perfect," he pauses and John wonders if the word doesn't translate, if that's how low he is to them. "Opposite." Contradiction, then._

"_A doctor who kills."_

_He is a doctor, and a soldier, it is his job to hold lives in his hands. Now, his life is in their hands. The man lifts the blade to John's left arm and John tries to move away, but he has no leverage being held up by his arms. "I take your armor, but I will leave your badge," John lets out a small cry as the blade cuts into his skin. It was a light cut, not meant to do damage but the dull blade hurt as it separated his skin. It was a short cut. "Let all know who you are." John tries to remain strong, but he is sobbing by the 6__th__ cut. They are cutting the cross into his arm, right where it stood on his uniform. He jerks as he cries but can't move very far. They are just beginning._

"_No," he pleads as they start the 7__th__. He screams right after._

"NO!" John screams and Sherlock hisses in pain as John wakes up by using his right hand to pull down Sherlock's right wrist and twist it. Before either of them could breathe Sherlock feels John's left hand grab his neck and squeeze. That's not good. Sherlock's left hand grabs John's wrist and he tries to call out and make John aware of his surroundings but he has no air. He can feel the lightheadedness begin. If Sherlock had ever needed proof that John was dangerous he had just gotten it.

_No. Don't be boring. I won't kill you._

Immediately after, Sherlock can breathe again, John pulls back both of his arms and moves away from Sherlock on the bed. A physical retreat. John is breathing heavily now and grabs his head with his hands as Sherlock focuses on deep breaths.

"Oh Jesus," John lets the situation sink in. "I'm so sorry Sherlock."

"It's okay," Sherlock soothes in a whisper. He had seen John like this before, when he first moved into Baker Street. Moriarty must have triggered it. John shakes his head and sighs.

"Was I loud?" Sherlock nods,

"I usually play the violin to calm you but it was ineffective." Sherlock begins to wave his arm around when a jolt of pain from his wrist stops him.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John spots the swelling and curses under his breath. He hops off the bed as Sherlock lifts his arm to let John inspect it.

"A sprain. My God Sherlock, I'm sorry." It looks like John is going to wallow in guilt over this, Sherlock rolls his eyes. "I can pick up a brace for you now. Let's go."

John double checks that it is, indeed, only a sprain and then gets Sherlock into a brace. He gives Sherlock painkillers and a glass of water before turning to see an umbrella. He looks up and locks eyes with Mycroft. He smiles politely and Mycroft narrows his eyes a fraction. John excuses himself quickly and Mycroft walks over to Sherlock.

"I have a case for you, Sherlock." Sherlock moves his head from side to side to make up for his hand in the brace and Mycroft glances at it before he looks to John, standing in the doorway, guilty.

"Sprained wrist, how exactly did that happen?"

"An accident," Sherlock answers as John closes his eyes and says "My fault." This causes Mycroft to lift an eyebrow.

"I should have known better" Sherlock scolds himself, "waking up an army veteran-" Sherlock stops abruptly as Mycroft's look. "Oh Mycroft," Sherlock sneers, "This is not a domestic violence case."

"Wait, what?" John asks in the background but Mycroft ignores him and Sherlock continues.

"He was having a flashback. I shook him." Mycroft twists his umbrella.

"Well that was rather stupid," he cedes. "If I find out-"

"We're not a couple." John insists as Mycroft looks towards him, about to open his mouth and retort.

"I believe you had a case for me to turn down." Sherlock breaks Mycroft's train of thought as he looks back to his brother.

"Right, then."

…

"In your bed?" Moriarty opens as he hears the phone picked up.

"Of course," She sounds smug. "In all of her glory." There is a soft sigh, "and then some."

"Naughty." Moriarty teases and can tell she smiles. She thinks he's flirting.

"I'm afraid I'm the one who gives out the spankings, Mr. Moriarty." She responds and he rolls his eyes.

"Spare me." He deadpans and she laughs as if he's told a joke. "Now, I have some ideas about where we go from here," She hums and he finds himself smiling as he outlines their options.

…

"_No blood today, Doctor." John feels the impact of something hot and heavy against his back. He screamed. He could almost tell what was damaged and where his internal bleeding was. The swing of his body caused one of the wounds on his chest to rip open and that caused a whimper to escape him. He could feel the blood trickle down his chest. John swallows as he closes his eyes. The man says something John doesn't understand. John tries to focus on breathing, every breath normally hurt, heaving breaths would be torturous. He opens them as he feels the man pinch the wound close. _

"_Try not to scream." The man instructs as he lifted a red hot metal rod, John's eyes widen as he brings it closer before burning the wound shut. John doesn't try very hard._

John wakes up screaming. He jerks in bed until he gets his bearing and sits up to see Sherlock by the door. He is panting and John figures he must've been calling his name. He's still fully dressed, so it must not be that late. John closes his eyes as Sherlock walks forward. When John opens them, he can only focus on Sherlock's wrist brace. Sherlock moves it under his coat and John lifts his gaze to meet Sherlock's eyes. John knows what's coming, so he tries to brace himself.

"I've tried not to pry," Sherlock starts and John knows it is true; otherwise it would have already been laid out before him. John drops his eyes. "You've been triggered by a kidnapping you were unharmed in. Since you aren't afraid of danger or death," that is one way to put it "it had to be situational. You were taken before." Sherlock glances at the door and John notes its pitch black outside his window. "The incident with the Black Lotus did not affect you afterwards."

"Yeah," John whispers.

"Your screams aren't from a bullet," too quick of a pain, and it's a rip, surprise, "or a nightmare," the violence it causes and John's screams really have only one explanation. "You were tortured for enough of a time that you expected death and for the scars to cover most of your body." John nods again feeling a tight feeling rise in his chest. The scars were obvious from his dressing habits.

"Therefore," Sherlock concludes, "a POW." The word echoes in his head and John stands and walks downstairs. Sherlock follows. John has had enough of this conversation, but he knows Sherlock has to pry so he lets him.

"How long?" John doesn't know, he didn't sleep much, didn't have any way to keep track, but he was told it was 16 days.

"16 days." He turns the kettle on, needing some tea. Sherlock can tell John doesn't want to talk about it but he feels his brain gnawing at him. New information!

"How long before you were shot?"

"Few days," John's voice is tense and so are his shoulders. Sherlock tilts his head.

"And the leg?" John turns to answer when the leg in question gives out on him. John reaches for a chair and both crash to the ground. Sherlock takes a step forward and hopes Mrs. Hudson doesn't wake up. John rests his head on the floor as Sherlock picks up the chair. John is trying not to cry and needs a moment. Soon after, John stands up and Sherlock offers him his good hand to get up. John takes it and leans against the counters looking down. He closes his eyes and Sherlock looks away.

_I will burn you._

"Please, Sherlock, no more questions." Sherlock wants to ask if he means now or ever because Sherlock has more he wants to ask but he knows he has already asked enough so he nods and turns to make his way to the couch. Sherlock seems to be pouting until John places his mug of tea in front of him. Sherlock stands, realizing it is all okay, and grabs his violin.

They would survive Moriarty.

Sherlock watches John as he plays and sees the tension ease out from the other.

In this moment, he knows he needs to protect John from Moriarty, or else Moriarty will take John and neither of them will be able to recover.

_I will burn the heart out of you._

**TDS: **Thoughts?


End file.
